A Deal with the Devil
by LisaCx2
Summary: Kelly Severide finds himself in a position he doesn't like...owing someone. He's forced to make a "deal with the devil" and take on a new role that doesn't include firefighting. Lots of Kelly drama, danger, and maybe a little Lindsay thrown in. This is the latest co-written story by mom2jlg and Chicago Firestarter. Chapter 11 up!
1. Chapter 1

Sergeant Hank Voight had been in plenty of tight places before, and he always found a way to squirm right outta them.

But this time with Internal Affairs breathing down his neck and a return visit to the pen a real possibility, he was feeling the squeeze. And desperate men do desperate things, he thought. Whatever it takes. There was no way he was going back to jail…whatever it takes.

Kelly Severide sat in the bull pen at the 21st Precinct. Erin Lindsay had called him in to talk. It had been about two weeks since Katie's rescue, and from the outside looking in she seemed to be on the road to recovery. Sure, she put on a happy face for her brother, for Otis, her mom, but deep inside, Kelly knew she was struggling. The unspeakable had happened to her... changing her in ways she hadn't even realized yet.

But every time she closed her eyes, Vince Keeler was right there. His ugly, sneering face...taunting her..._tormenting_ her. She could never say it out loud...but Kelly knew there were probably moments when she thought it would have been easier if he'd just killed her.

Her mom suggested that she spend some time with family in Colorado and outwardly everyone agreed a change in scenery could do some good. But Kelly didn't want to let her go, because he knew she wasn't the tough cookie she was trying to portray. Every time he talked to her, he could hear the pain...the fear... in her voice. He just wished he could do something. If only he had found her sooner. If only he'd insisted on taking her home that night...or taking her to his place.

But hindsight was always 20/20 and now he'd have to trust the system. The problem was he didn't. Every time _he_ closed his eyes he could still see Keeler's smug face as the bastard walked out of the precinct after the orders came down to cut him loose.

He apparently had some friends in high places... that what Detective Erin Lindsay had said when she told Kelly that her hands were tied.

"There's nothing I can do right now." she said, her voice filled with regret. "But Kelly, I promise you, Keeler's gonna get his. It's just a matter of time."

Erin had been Severide's biggest ally and she was the one who fought hardest to get Katie home safe.

But Kelly was frustrated...no...he was absolutely livid. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. Keeler was supposed to get thrown into some deep, dark hole somewhere...someplace where he'd never see the light of day for the rest of his miserable life!

"Do something, Erin, or I will." He told her.

He knew he already owed her though. She'd gone above and beyond…really the entire Intelligence Team had. Voight had put all their other cases on the back burner when Katie went missing.

As far as he was concerned, it's like the bastards took one of their own. That's what he said...or words to that effect.

His ultimatum didn't sit well with Lindsay. She knew Severide wasn't about to sit on his hands after what that animal had done to his little sister. It didn't matter that he'd only known her a few months. She was still his flesh and blood.

That's why it was important that they played this one by the book. Well...by Voight's book at least. They needed to make this stick.

So for now...the asshole was back on the street...free as a bird...that smug smile plastered on his face.

"You're not gonna do a damn thing," Erin said in low, even tones. "Leave this to us."

"What's he leavin' to us?"

Voight came into the squad room and he passed right by Detective Lindsay's desk on his way to the coffee machine.

"Keeler. I was just telling Lieutenant Severide that we'll take care of him, and he needs to let the cops handle this. " Erin said as she waited for a little back up from her boss.

"Damn right. Rest assured that punk'll get what's comin' to him. I can promise you that," said Voight clasping a hand on Kelly's shoulder before he walked off.

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly the most forgiving person when it comes to somebody hurtin' my family." Kelly said as he stood up to leave. "Erin, thanks for everything you did. I really do appreciate it. But if you think I'm gonna just sit back while that asshole…"

"That's exactly what you're gonna do!" Voight said as he turned back to face Severide. "You're gonna let us do our job. I guarantee...you won't have to wait too long."

As he walked out of the precinct, Kelly told himself there was nothing he could do about the past.

But the future? Now that was a different story.

He strode into Station 51. He was just hoping for a call, for something to get his mind off Katie, Vince Keeler, and what he did to her.

I gotta be losin' it... he thought. When do we ever hope for a fire? An accident? Never.

He barely even said a quick hello to Shay before he disappeared into the locker room... before she could begin her game of twenty questions. He knew his roommate meant well...that she wanted to know he was okay. But the mood he was in, he was liable to bite her head off.

And he didn't want to do that.

Back at the 21st precinct, Voight was on his phone again...his voice getting louder and louder even though he was obviously making an effort to keep it low.

Erin watched his face... knowing something was up.

"What's goin' on, Hank?" she asked her mentor the second he hung up.

Let me in...she thought...so I can help.

"Nothin' you need to worry about," he answered with an unnatural smile.

Smiles were never natural for him.

"Now let's go get that piece of garbage off my streets." he said motioning for Halstead and Olinsky to join them.

He pushed back the thoughts of that bitch from Internal Affairs, trying to focus on the task in front of them…bringing the scum who kidnapped Severide's sweet little sister to justice. But every time he spied a drug deal going down on a corner as they whipped by he heard her threats all over again.

She was getting impatient.

"You better put an end to this, Voight!" she commanded. "These guys aren't your average scumbags. They're smart...white collar...educated. It's going to take your whole team working 24/7 to get them. And that's what Commissioner wants...that's what the Mayor wants...to end it NOW. And if you can't guarantee me results, I can guarantee that your ass will be back in lock up faster than you can…"

Voight had given his word. He had promised her he would shut down the prescription ring infecting the some of the "nicer" parts of the city, particularly the University District. Then the Mayor wouldn't have to be bothered with calls about affluent teens from affluent families OD-ing anymore.

She had given him a deadline…she was under the gun too. She wanted it all wrapped up in a bow within three months. Was she insane? A year would've been more reasonable, maybe even three. But no...Hank Voight had personally guaranteed that these guys would be out of business in three months.

What the hell had he gotten himself into... he thought as he got out of the car.

He had to focus on his current fishing expedition. Catching a slippery son of a bitch named Vince Keeler.


	2. Chapter 2

"Engine 51...Truck 81...Ambulance 61...Squad 3...Multi vehicle accident..."

Severide jumped off the rig before it even stopped moving. He ran over to the nearest crumpled mess of a car and looked inside. He stuck his hand through the broken window and checked the driver for a pulse. He felt the man's neck...his fingers slipping in the blood...and he got nothing.

He shook his head as Shay came running toward him.

Then he headed over to the next car...hoping there was someone in there he could save.

What a mess. A Corvette had cut off a tractor/trailer...and the driver slammed on his brakes, causing the rig to whip around...taking out everything in the vicinity.

It was a shame what happened to that Corvette...he thought.

It was a shame when people had more money than brains.

Severide pushed his helmet up with the back of his hand. When he looked west...as far as he could see there was nothing but cars. Same story on the other side. Why weren't the cops diverting traffic off the expressway?

About a hundred people were laying on their horns.

What the hell did they think he was doin'? Takin' a damn coffee break?

"Oh, shut the hell up!" he yelled at the nearest thing.

"Hey!" a young officer yelled back. "Move this truck so we can get these people movin'!"

Kelly turned and closed the gap between them in a few long strides.

"You're supposed to be diverting them off the highway!" he said. "They're still treating victims here!"

They couldn't have people driving through the accident scene. There was glass and twisted hunks of metal all over the road. Not to mention the coroner had yet to get there to clear the DOA's for removal.

The trucks stayed where they were. SOP.

"The exit's two miles back..." the cop told him. "There's nowhere for them to get off...except the next exit!"

"Not my problem." Severide retorted, as he turned to go back to work.

"Move the damn truck! That's an order!"

Severide turned back.

"I don't take orders from you!"

He closed the gap between him and this young cop once more.

"There's still over a dozen injured victims and about fifty first responders! Those trucks are there to protect the scene! And they're stayin' right where they are!"

The cop got right in the Lieutenant's face.

"I said...move the Goddamn fire truck..."

He jabbed a finger into Severide's chest.

Kelly knocked it away.

"Don't touch me, you little punk!"

The next thing he knew...the little punk was behind him...and Severide found himself face down over the hood of a radio car.

There was a commotion as Chief Boden and the members of Squad 3 rushed to his aid.

"Let him go!" Chief hollered. "Let him go!"

But the young cop was feeling his oats...

"Stay back! Stay back or I'll throw all of you in jail!"

He whipped out his handcuffs...and slapped 'em on Kelly's wrists.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Severide yelled. "Get these damn things off me and let me do my job!"

"You're under arrest for assaulting an officer..." the cop said. "You have the right to remain silent..."

This was unreal...

Mills pushed forward to help his Lieutenant, but Chief stopped him. While Mills struggled against the chief...Severide was marched to the rear of the radio car and unceremoniously shoved into the back seat.

In front of every news team in town.


	3. Chapter 3

Kelly was in a daze as he was fingerprinted, had his picture taken. They were actually doin' this, he thought in disbelief. The realization that he was being arrested had done wonders to calm down Squad's lieutenant. He was still pissed, but now faced with some kinda record, he was thinking of a hundred other things. First off, who to call? And how this would affect his job? Mouch had said to be a Boy Scout after the whole Tara Little incident, and Kelly didn't have to be told twice.

His only other brush with the law had been when he was sixteen, and his team had lost when he fumbled on the nine, just about to score the winning touchdown.

"Severide, there's more to life than one play," his coach had said, patting him on the back when he stomped over to the sideline, head down, ready to beat the living crap out of something. He threw his helmet down and he _knew_ it was just the one play. _His _screw up.

That night he'd gotten so drunk he barely remembered the play, barely remembered that there'd even been a football game.

Mission accomplished.

It was on the drive home where things got a little dicey. He bummed a ride from Heather or Kiersten or whatever her name was and he thought they were still on the road when they were actually stopped on the side. A light shone in the car.

"What the hell?" slurred Kelly squinting at the offending light. He was thrown in the back of some strange car with the crying girl. He sobered up pretty quick when he realized where they were headed. By the time he got to the police station, Benny was waiting. His dad had missed the game but made it for the after party. Typical Benny.

Kelly and the girl were let off, and Benny was shaking enough hands...you would've thought he was running for office. Chicago FD and PD were like competitive brothers... each trying to one up the other, prove they were better. But they did have each other's backs.

"Goddamn it Kelly!" Benny exploded once they got in the car. " What the hell were you thinking? The Academy will never take you if you got a record! Use your damn head!"

Kelly remained silent. It'd been three months since he'd last seen his dad. And this wasn't exactly the happy reunion he'd been hoping for. Not that he'd been hoping. He had learned long ago not to hold his breath waiting on his father.

Neither one said a word on the drive back to Kelly's apartment. Benny dropped him off and watched him make his way up the front steps and into the vestibule.

He never forgot that night. He'd come close a bunch of times, but always knew when to pull back.

Until today. Unfreaking believable.

He called Shay. No answer. Great, she was probably pissed. But he knew she'd come eventually. Or Boden, Casey, someone. It's not like they didn't know where he was.

He was cooling his heels in a holding cell when Sergeant Voight rolled in...shaking as many hands as Benny had that night all those years ago.

"You ready to get the hell outta here?" he asked, unlocking the holding cell himself. "Goddamn overeager rookie piece of shit..."

That was the best idea Kelly had heard all day. He grabbed his bunker jacket and his helmet. It just dawned on him that they'd let him keep all his gear.

That was weird.

Severide eyed his benefactor warily as he stepped out of the cage.

Voight led Kelly down a back hallway. he would want to avoid the front.

"You'll wanna go out the back." he said. "Your friend's waitin' right outside."

Kelly turned to shake the older man's hand before they reached the side exit.

"An' you don't need to worry about any of this shit." Voight told him "It's gone...off the books... never happened."

He smiled, lookin' like a cat who just swallowed a canary.

Kelly couldn't believe it.

How does something like that just disappear?

But with Voight a lotta things can disappear.

Shay was waiting nervously as she sat behind the wheel ready to make a getaway. Kelly slid into the passenger seat and reached for the seat belt.

As they crept down the alley toward Irving Park the need for all the secrecy and subterfuge fell into place.

The rookie cop, the asshole who'd pinned Kelly down on the hood of the car, was being pinned down himself right now. By a barrage of media...reporters all shoving mics in the young man's face. There was an older guy was at his side, probably his union rep.

"Shit. Is this what I can expect back at 51?" he asked uneasily.

He did not want to answer a bunch of questions, to have to explain that he was just tryin' to look out for his own. He didn't need Shay and Dawson getting hit by some idiot driver in a hurry trying to zip by the accident scene.

"Voight had them take everything out of the system...no record of your name, nothing. He said asshole cop won't say a word...or he won't be able to get a job as a meter maid." Shay answered, smiling at her best friend... knowing publicity was something he hated.

The local news had tried to do a human interest story about the Nathan rescue. It had all the elements of a great story, hurt kid, hero working all night to save him, everything worked out in the end. Unfortunately, her roommate wasn't too camera friendly.

She laughed just thinking about Kelly's short answers and how the reporter left in frustration... and ditched the whole story altogether.

"How the hell did Voight sweep all of this under the rug? Why?"

Nothing could be this easy...there had to be a catch.

"I have no idea, but let's not question it. Let's just be thankful. You ready to get out of here?" Shay asked.

"Yeah. Let's go home."

Kelly stole a quick glance back. The rookie officer was trying to leave but he being pushed back by the reporters. He almost felt sorry for the kid...almost. As they sped away, he hoped that would be his last visit to PD. He just wanted to forget the whole damn thing.

Voight was also watching the scene, but from an upstairs window, arms crossed over his chest, slight smile forming. He'd promised Erin he'd help out the fireman.

He'd watched with pride when she gave Officer Dominguez a tongue lashing the rookie would not soon forget. It was amazing how they weren't even blood related. She was more like him than Justin would ever be.

He'd just file this away. You never knew when you might need to call in a favor... he thought, a wry smile spreading across his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Duncan Bernard IV was nervous...he was always nervous, but tonight more so than usual.

He had a Chem test tomorrow morning and he was woefully unprepared.

His dad would kill him if he failed. And to Duncan Bernard III, MD, PhD, anything below an A minus was considered failure.

Where were his note cards? He had just had them in his hand a second ago!

"Tyler?" he asked his roommate. "Have you seen my note cards? I just had 'em..."

Tyler Slade crossed the room to grab the note cards off the dresser.

Who the hell still used note cards? he wondered. The guy had a top of the line laptop with voice-to-text...he could re-read every damn lecture. And he did. Multiple times.

He shook his head in disgust.

The kid was wound so tight he was liable to snap at any moment.

"Here, Bernie..." he said. "Look...take a break...let's go out for an hour or two. There's a party up the block...some buddies of mine."

"I can't...I've got my test's at eight o'clock. I'll be up all night!"

"Bernie" took off his glasses and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. His mouth felt so dry he could spit cotton.

He shook his arms out...put his glasses back on...and took a deep breath.

Time to focus.

"I'm just talkin' about an hour." Tyler said. "C'mon...college is supposed to be fun!"

Bernie could see he wasn't going to get anything done unless he appeased his roommate. He pushed his chair back from the desk.

"Okay...one hour..." he said. "And not a minute longer."

Tyler grabbed Bernie by the shoulders and gave him a little shake.

"Atta boy!" he crowed. "You'll see...it'll be fun!"

He grabbed his shaving kit, and went to get ready. As almost an afterthought, he grabbed a small bottle...like the kind prescriptions came in...just without any label.

He tossed them in Bernie's general direction.

"Here...take a couple of these."

Bernie fumbled the pass...then bent over to retrieve the bottle.

"What are these?" he asked.

"It'll make you feel good...give you a buzz." Tyler said. "Trust me...it's perfectly safe."

He grabbed his towel and headed for the bathroom.

"Trust me..." he said again. "I wouldn't steer you wrong."

Bernie looked at the bottle like it might bite him...then he popped the top and shook a couple white pills into his hand. He didn't recognize the markings...nothing to give him any kind of clue what they were.

He shouldn't do it...he knew that. Never take anything new without talking to a doctor first...that's what his dad always said.

And usually in the next breath he said something like 'You take enough shit as it is...'.

But Tyler said it was fine. Tyler knew about having a good time...about cutting loose. And Bernie was about two steps shy of losing it. He was right...he needed a break. He needed to relax, have a drink, maybe he might even meet a girl. Maybe whatever those little white pills were would give him a little courage to actually speak to one.

Tyler wouldn't put him in any danger.

So Bernie swallowed two pills.

He was already feeling that buzz Tyler was talking about as they headed out.

They walked the three blocks to an older looking building on Taylor Street. Bernie struggled to focus to see the numbers. Some guys he knew lived in an apartment on Taylor...Pre-Meds...like him...and they were always complaining about the noise from down the block.

He wondered if that's where he was going...as he followed his roommate up the stairs to the second floor apartment.

He'd never seen so many people in such a small space. There must have been over a hundred. There was music, playing at an ear shattering volume...but you could barely hear over the crowd. People were drinking from bottles and from Solo cups...they were smoking...some were even passing a cigarette back and forth.

Bernie turned around and bumped into Tyler.

"Here..."he said. "I got you a beer."

He handed Bernie a red cup full of amber colored liquid.

Wasn't beer supposed to have foam on the top? This didn't have much of a head...and it wasn't very cold.

'Oh well,' he thought. 'When in Rome...'

And even though the stuff tasted terrible, he took a big swallow.

"Ambulance 61...700 South Halsted..."

"University..." Dawson said as they climbed in the rig.

"Whatever could they be doing on a Thursday night?" Shay quipped sarcastically.

There was a crowd outside the dorm when they pulled up.

"Third floor!" a guy shouted. "Room 342...right off the elevator!"

There was even more chaos when they got to the third floor.

The two paramedics entered the room to find a kid on the floor...and another guy doing chest compressions. And there was yet _another_ guy screaming hysterically.

"I don't know what happened! We were at a party...an' he had like...not even two beers!

Dawson pushed the Good Samaritan aside.

"Fire Department..." she said brusquely. "How long has he been down?"

"I've been doing compressions about five minutes..." the guy said. "But he was passed out when I got here."

"Why is he all wet?" Shay asked.

The kid was wearing an expensive button down shirt...probably designer...and khakis...and he was soaked from head to toe.

"I put him in the shower!" Hysterical guy said. "What's wrong with him? Why doesn't he wake up?"

The paramedics worked frantically...looking for any sign on life...and finding none. They tore open that expensive shirt and slapped the pads on his chest...nothing. Flat line.

"Intubate?" Shay asked.

Dawson shook her head.

The kid was gone. They were too late.

"Time of death...twenty-one thirty-five." she said.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know this is a lot of build up but hang in there...a bunch of Severide is coming. AND we have some Erin on the way. Hope you enjoy**.

* * *

Dr. Duncan Bernard III was not amused at being woken up in the middle of the night. The Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery at one of the most prestigious teaching hospitals in the country did not get called in the middle of the night. That's what they had residents for.

"What?" he snapped as he grabbed the phone.

He had a busy day on Friday...half day in the office, then eighteen holes with some old colleagues he'd known for over twenty years. He needed his sleep.

The caller asked if he was the father of Duncan Bernard IV.

"Yes. I am." the doctor replied.

'What's the boy gone and done now?' he thought to himself.

Probably worried himself into another anxiety attack and gone to the Emergency Room again.

He definitely wasn't expecting the answer he got.

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Voight was still in his office at two thirty in the morning and he grabbed the phone before it even finished ringing once.

"Voight."

He listened to the caller on the other end of the line.

"You don't even know if this is related or not. They haven't even called it 'suspicious circumstances' let alone a homicide."

Then he had to take the phone away from his ear because the caller was yelling so loudly.

"A'right...a'right...we're on it." he said before slamming the phone back in its cradle.

Hank Voight wiped his hand down his face in sheer frustration. There were times he almost regretted his decision to get in bed with Gradishar and IA..._almost_.

He reached for his cell.

"Why the hell are we gettin' called in the middle of the night to look at some dead kid in his dorm room?" Halstead asked Lindsay as they got off the elevator.

"Cause it's your goddamn job, that's why." Voight answered.

"What is he? Part bat?" Halstead grumbled under his breath.

"That would explain the nocturnal tendency." Erin replied.

"I heard that!" Voight called back over his shoulder.

The team ducked under the tape one by one. The body had been removed from the scene, but that was about it.

Over in the corner a guy about twenty or so was teetering on the edge of hysteria, and another guy, maybe slightly older, was trying to calm him down. And having very little luck.

Voight rolled his eyes. he'd never get anything done with all that blubbering and bawling. He caught Lindsay's eye and cocked his head toward the open door.

Erin got the hint and she approached the uniformed officer in the room with a purpose.

She took the blubbering idiot...oh, the witness...down the hall to the student lounge and curled up in a chair.

She wanted to make this the least intimidating she could.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Tyler...Tyler Slade."

"And you were...Duncan's roommate?"

"Yeah..." Tyler licked his lips nervously.

His mouth was so dry...

"Did you know him before this year?"

The young guy shook his head. He'd really wanted to get an apartment, but his dad hadn't come through with the funding. By that time, he'd missed the deadline to apply for a choice of roommate...so it was the luck of the draw.

Or in his case, not so much...getting stuck with a straight arrow like Bernie.

"Well, what can you tell me about him?" Lindsay asked.

She studied Tyler Slade intensely, watching his body language, how fast he was breathing, how he was sweating like a horse. This guy had something to hide.

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Back in the room, Halstead was clicking around on the dead guy's computer, trying to find a way in. All he'd managed to figure out was the kid had the thing encrypted out the wahzoo.

Ruzek was picking things up off the dresser...lookin' at 'em...putting them down.

There was nothing interesting in here. Just preppy clothes and books. The kind of guy he used to trip going down the hallway in school.

He went over to desk where Halstead had just given up on the computer.

Adam reached around to open the drawer.

"Excuse you..." Halstead said.

But in that drawer, they finally found something interesting.

In the lounge, Erin was still trying to make some headway with Tyler.

"What about relationships?" she asked. "Did Bernie have a girlfriend?"

"The guy studied round the clock..." Tyler said. "He was Pre-Med 'cause his dad's some big hot-shot surgeon."

"The dad put a lot of pressure on him?"

"That's like...the understatement of the century. Bernie didn't wanna be a doctor any more than me...but he was scared shitless of his old man."

Inside the desk drawer was a whole pharmacy. Ruzek pulled the bottles out one by one...Xanax...Prozac...Wellbutrin...antihistamine.

"Got an evidence bag?" he asked.

Halstead reached into his inside pocket and handed over the plastic bag.

"Nothin' like comin' to work prepared, Rookie." Jay said sarcastically.

"So...where'd you go tonight?" Erin asked.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ruzek slip through the door.

But she focused on her interview subject.

"We went to a party...just for an hour." Tyler answered in a trembling voice. "Over on Taylor."

"What was goin' on at this party? Did Bernie take anything?"

"No! Bernie wouldn't do drugs!" Tyler's voice kept rising...cracking at the top. "He had like..._two _beers! Not even two! More like one and a half!"

Ruzek crossed the room and handed Erin the plastic bag.

Erin looked at the labels.

"Tyler...this is Officer Ruzek...he works with me." she said.

"We found these in your roommate's desk." Ruzek said.

"They're all legal!" Tyler protested. "He was always poppin' pills for anxiety and shit!"

"You just said he didn't take drugs. I heard you." Ruzek pressed.

"I meant _illegal_ shit. He's a basket case! He's got prescriptions for all that!"

"What about you, Tyler?" Lindsay cut in. "Do you take anything? Did you take anything tonight?"

"No!" Tyler spat out.

Oh, God...he was about to have a heart attack.

"You mind if we look on your side of the room?" Ruzek asked.

"You can't do that!" Tyler jumped to his feet. "You can't do that! I got rights!"

"Easy...don't get your panties in a twist..." Ruzek said in disgust. "We can get a warrant if we have to."

"I want a lawyer! I gotta call my dad!"

The two cops looked at one another.

Neither of them would be surprised if the kid peed himself.

"Did you do anything illegal?" Lindsay wondered. "Something you'd need a lawyer for?"

Tyler could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. His mouth was parched. He was sweating so bad he'd need to wring out his shirt in about another minute.

"I gave him two hydrocodones." he confessed. "They're in the top drawer of my dresser, in a white tube sock."

Ruzek turned on his heel and went back to the room.

He went straight to the dresser and yanked open the drawer.

The stash was right where the roommate said it would be.

And it was more than he said it would be.

Tyler had not only hydrocodone...but Dilaudid...Adderall...and a dime bag of pot.

"Hey..." he called out to Halstead. "You got another evidence bag on you?"


	6. Chapter 6

Tyler Slade didn't have a prayer when Sergeant Voight stepped into the interrogation room.

This night wasn't happening, he told himself. It's all a bad dream.

In no time flat, Voight had the petrified kid singin' like a canary.

And they had a name.

Jay Halstead and Erin Lindsay stood on the other side of the glass watching the boss work his mojo...

"Five more minutes and the kid woulda confessed to killing Jimmy Hoffa." Halstead remarked drily.

Lindsay shot him a look.

"Let's go try and set up a buy..." she said, totally ignoring Jay's last comment.

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The next week and a half was a blur...and Dr. Bernard wouldn't remember a thing. Police reports...rushed autopsy... the funeral...making the arrangements, never stopping for even a second to think about what happened. That was how he did everything...cool, detached...without any feeling. And it had always served him well.

But his youngest son was dead. And Dr. Bernard really didn't know the boy. His third wife, young Duncan's mother, had died of ovarian cancer when the boy was five, leaving him to raise the whiney child on his own. But he didn't have time for that. So for a short time there was a nanny. And then boarding school.

Even at the age of five he knew young Duncan was soft. How could he not be, with that ridiculous nickname his mother called him...Duncie? Every time he heard Jennifer say it he cringed with embarrassment.

Of course, what could you expect from a girl like that? When he'd met Jennifer back in 1988 she was a waitress, but she was saving up to go to cosmetology school. But Dr. Bernard was taken by the bubbly, vivacious girl nonetheless. He'd spent almost five years grooming her before he finally married her in 1993, when she was twenty- three and he was fifty-two.

Duncan came along a year and a half later. Jennifer was dead five years after that.

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Now, another funeral...done. Dr. Bernard focused his attention to the task at hand, and it was time for results.

He'd been appalled to learn that his son's death was brought on by an interaction of opiates with his prescription antihistamines, antidepressants and antianxiety drugs. And he'd see the hoodlums responsible rot in jail or his name wasn't Duncan Bernard III, MD, PhD.

He pulled out his phone to call the detective in charge...Sergeant Hank Voight.

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Kelly Severide's whole life was also a blur.

His dad had showed up demanding to know what happened with Katie and where the cops were at in terms of making an arrest.

Typical Benny, a day late and a dollar short. He hadn't been there for Katie while she was growing up. And Kelly told him to go back to Kenosha.

But father and son could definitely agree on one thing. Benny Severide shared his son's desire for some retribution.

The CPD had dropped the ball as far as Keeler getting what was coming to him. Erin and Voight's promises came up empty, and as far as Severide was concerned, Keeler had enjoyed his freedom for long enough. Well that was comin' to an end...now.

When Keeler turned up missing, Sergeant Voight knew a Severide was to blame, or perhaps to be congratulated. He questioned Kelly for over an hour but he just didn't get a good read.

"I don't know," he told Erin. "I can see him doing somethin' to the bastard, but I can't tell."

"I don't think he did it. Whatever 'it' is," said Erin.

After all, Kelly had looked her in the eye and said he had nothing to do with Keeler's vanishing act. And she wanted to believe him.

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Then a couple days after Kelly's interrogation, Benny Severide called Voight up, asking to meet. It was important, he said.

The two older men went way back, and even though neither would ever admit it, they were more similar than different. They'd had a few run-ins back when Benny was still on the job, particularly when he was over in arson. But they also shared a mutual respect.

After that talk, Voight's level of Severide respect increased tenfold.

The next morning he strode into the station informing his team that the Keeler case was officially closed. New evidence surfaced pointing to a neighborhood thug who'd been trying to make a name for himself. And takin' out Vince Keeler apparently amounted to a lot of street cred.

Whatever. Case closed. End of story.

So now the squad's lieutenant owed him. He had two markers that could be called in. That is, if anyone was keepin' score. He might have to start though, and soon. The seeds of a plan began sprouting in his brain. It was a good plan...one that would hopefully get him out from under IA's thumb.

They were gettin' nowhere fast in this investigation.

They had a name...Joe Pierson. That's who Tyler had got his pills from. And that's where they had to start.

If only they could.

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First, Ruzek and Halstead had argued about which one of them should make the buy.

"C'mon!" Ruzek groaned. "He looks like he's about twelve! Nobody's gonna buy him for a college student! High school, _maybe_."

"Bite me, Ruzek." Jay told him, bouncing his pen across his desk. "I'm older than you are."

"Only two freakin' years..."

"And yet, I've got over ten years on the job...you were only in the Academy up till a couple months ago. What were ya doin' all that time, huh, Ruzek?"

"I had to wait for my number to come up in the lottery..." Adam retorted.

"So you passed the time walkin' the malls in suburbia as a rent-a-cop."

Voight appeared in the doorway of his office.

"Hey!" he barked. "If the two 'a you wanna turn this into a pissin' contest...I'll toss both 'a you out on your asses!"

He stood there...hands on his hips...looking back and forth between his two most junior team members.

"Halstead makes the buy." he said.

Then he turned around...went back into his office and slammed the door hard enough to make the glass rattle.

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After his son's funeral, the elder Bernard had a single focus...to see everyone responsible for his son's death punished. Unfortunately things weren't moving fast enough for his taste.

Having old money and power could get things done in Chicago. Dr. Bernard got things done. First on his hit list...the slacker of a roommate...Tyler.

One call to an old friend, and the kid was packing his bags. Expelled.

Another call was all it took to sic the Vice Squad on the party hosts. And they found something. Not a lot...but enough to make their lives miserable for quite a while.

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In the meantime, Voight had troubles of his own. He was workin' a deal with Maurice when the cop cars swooped in. And that's when he met his new IA nemesis. After failing to get the results she promised, Gradishar was unceremoniously replaced by a new guy, the uber ambitious Edwin Stillwell.

The initial half smile Voight cracked after finding out Gradishar was gone was replaced by a pulsating clenched jaw after a two minute conversation with the new guy. Stillwell laid it out. Veiled threats were not his style...Hank had one month to show progress. And in case Voight was wondering, "progress" meant arrests, drug dealers behind bars, kingpins brought down,. It was basically an impossible ultimatum. But one he better deliver on if he didn't want his ass locked back up.

They set up the buy with Pierson and Halstead went out to meet him. And he waited...and waited...and waited. Just as he was about to write it off to a no-show, a guy with long, greasy, stringy hair and a dirty jean jacket approached the undercover cop.

He had a message...he said.

Halstead took a step back. The guy's breath alone was enough to knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. Just his luck to be standing down wind.

"What message?" he said, trying not to breathe.

"Pierson says to tell you he doesn't deal with cops."

They tried again...this time with Ruzek. And the results were the same...except the messenger who approached him smelled a helluva lot better.

Back at the 21st, Voight was sweating bullets. Not that anybody would know. Outside he was his usual cool, collected, somewhat sadistic self. But Stillwell was breathing down his neck and he didn't like it one bit.

Two detectives made in about two weeks. And they hadn't even gotten a fuckin' toe in the door. That kinda thing just didn't happen. At least not in his unit.

Sure...things got dicey sometimes...undercover work wasn't for the faint of heart. Voight had even been tripped up once or twice himself back in the day. But this?

There was only one explanation.

They had a security problem.

There was a mole somewhere in the precinct.

* * *

**Severide is coming! It's all Kelly from here on out. We'll update soon.**


	7. Chapter 7

He had to get this show on the road. Now.

Problem was...they were runnin' out of manpower.

Voight couldn't see anyone in their right mind buyin' Erin as a co-ed. She had seen too much, she could carry herself. She didn't do the "doe-eyed little girl". Antonio was also out. For pretty much the same reason. And that left Olinsky and Yours Truly.

They were totally fucked.

They needed a game changer. A wild card.

Maybe they didn't use a "student"? Maybe they use someone who might have ties to a student?

Maybe someone with a twenty-one year old kid sister.

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Voight didn't give anyone a head's up that he was goin' to 51. He strode in...bypassing the questioning looks, walking straight back to the man in charge, Chief Boden. Even he would have to be kept in the dark. The less people who knew, the greater the chance for success.

"Hey, Chief. Sorry to barge in on you, but I gotta have a word with Severide." Voight said when he walked in.

"Thought the Keeler case was closed."

Boden didn't like the look in the sergeant's eyes.

"It is. No...this is something more...let's just say of a _personal_ nature."

Boden's eyebrows rose, wondering what Severide had gotten himself into.

"He's prob'ly in his quarters." the Chief said finally. "I'll have someone take you back."

Kelly was shocked as anybody when Voight walked into the room, closed the blinds, and plopped down in a chair like he owned the place.

"I got a problem." Voight said.

"And this concerns me how?" Severide asked.

"See, we got this drug ring..." Voight went on, like he hadn't heard that last remark. "They're dealin' in prescriptions. An' we got some unsuspectin' kids...kids with more money than you an' I'll ever see...endin' up dead.

He looked Severide in the eye.

"An' these kids...they got daddies who got friends in high places...like the Commissioner's office...like the Mayor's office."

"We'll all keep an eye open." Kelly said "If we hear anything we'll let you know."

He rose to see the cop out, not sure why he was talking to him and not Boden.

"I need a bit more from you then that." Voight said, not moving from his chair.

A tight-lipped smile formed across his face, and Kelly knew good news would not be following.

"Just cut the bullshit," Kelly told him. "Whaddya want from me?"

The sooner the cop laid his damn cards on the table, the sooner he'd get outta there.

Voight laid out the basics of what he needed from Severide...driving home the fact that the lieutenant really owed him, really owed the CPD.

Kelly didn't say anything at first. He just let the man talk.

He did owe them. Big time. But someone needed to point out the fucking obvious.

"But I'm not a cop. I don't know anything about undercover work."

"Well, you're in luck...'cause we do."

But "luck" wasn't the word Severide was thinking of.

"We'll be right there, every step 'a the way. And you're not being a cop. You're being you. You're just getting information for us."

Now Voight was done. He'd said his piece... and he stood up and held out his hand to the lieutenant to seal the bargain.

Kelly reluctantly took it.

"Okay...I'll do it."

"One more thing. Why me?" asked Kelly, as Voight was on his way out.

He knew it had to be more than the debt he owed.

"Let's just say I heard you had a little problem with prescription pain killers a while back." Voight said. "So this won't be too far outta your comfort zone."

Voight walked out the door leaving Kelly chew on that one for a while.

He heard the door slam, and he knew he had just what he needed.

Perfect, thought Voight. The first piece fell right into place. Now, time to talk to Erin.


	8. Chapter 8

Halstead came in the next morning to find Erin and the boss goin' at it in Voight's office.

The rest of the team was already there, doing their best to ignore the screaming voices and the wild gestures going on behind the glass.

"What the hell's goin' on in there?" Jay asked.

Everyone looked up.

"That's above your pay grade." Antonio Dawson replied. "An' nice of you to join us, by the way."

But Halstead ignored the jab...he was trying to figure out what could possibly have Erin and Voight trying to draw blood the way they were.

He could read his partner pretty well...and he couldn't remember ever seeing her so mad. And Voight...there was a vein pulsating at his right temple. His face was red and he was pounding on the desk to drive home whatever point he was trying to make.

The boss looked like he was about to give himself apoplexy.

A minute later the door was flung wide open...slamming against the wall and bouncing back. And Erin stormed out into the bullpen.

Halstead stood up and started to approach her but she pushed right past. She took the stairs two at a time, and Jay took off a beat behind.

"Hey...wait up!" he called as he chased her out of the station to her car.

Lindsay yanked open the driver's side door and looked at her partner like she was seeing him for the first time.

"Where're we goin'?" Jay asked...reaching for the passenger side door handle.

"Stay out of it, Halstead. This has nothin' to do with you."

"Whaddya mean 'nothin' to do with me'?" he asked. "I'm your partner."

"And you need to turn around and go back inside." Erin told him. "This is something I gotta do myself."

"That's bullshit..."

"I'm gonna say it one more time. Mind your business...turn around...walk away."

And with that she slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door. She hit the lock before Halstead could try and hop in.

He watched as she sped down the block, wondering what the hell was going on, and when they were gonna let him in on the secret.

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Erin Lindsay drove in a half fog... heading to an apartment she'd never been to before. She was so mad she could barely make out the street in front of her. Voight was, ugh ...what? An ass? A selfish ass? And she was gonna put an end to his crazy plan, right now.

Her car screeched to a stop and she slammed it in park. Then she marched up the steps and pounded on the door. Again and again. Patience not one of her virtues.

"What the hell," Kelly mumbled, fumbling with the lock. Then he smiled when he saw the beautiful detective standing on his doorstep for the first time.

"Erin?" he asked, not sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him at this early morning hour. "What're you doin' here?"

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Not even waiting for an answer she pushed right past Kelly.

She was obviously pissed about something.

"Uh...sure, c'mon in..." he said a questioning look replacing the smile.

As soon as he shut the door she turned back around...quickly closing the space between them.

No smile, no hug...all business. Police business.

"You're gonna call Voight right now and tell him you changed your mind...that you're not doin' this. That there's no way in hell..."

"Just come on in and sit down," said Kelly pointing to the living room. He took a step closer, taking Erin's arm to lead her to the couch.

But she yanked her arm away, staying right where she was.

"I don't want to sit down. I want you to tell Voight to go to hell, you changed your mind, whatever."

She took a breath.

"You have no idea what you're doing, Kelly. And you're gonna get yourself hurt...or killed. Now either you call Voight...

"It's not that simple Erin." he said. "I owe him."

"It is that simple! You are a firefighter not a cop! You don't have a clue!" She exploded. "So, here, I'll even dial for you."

Erin held out the phone to Kelly, pushing it into his hands.

Kelly took a step closer to the detective, but instead of taking the phone from her he touched 'End".

"Kelly." she said, an almost imperceivable hint of desperation in her voice. "You are a good guy, a really, really good guy. And I've seen things go south faster than I can even tell you..."

"You think I don't know that?! You think that hasn't crossed my mind?!"

His sudden outburst threw her off her game for a second.

She took another moment and tried to appeal to his sense of reason.

"Kelly, I know you think you owe Voight something, but you don't. You don't owe him shit." she said, her voice softening. "I can't let you do this."

"Let me?" Kelly asked eyebrows raised.

It was nice that she was concerned for his safety...but nobody...not even a beautiful lady cop...told him what he could and couldn't do.

"Don't give me any shit," Erin finally cracked a small smile. "You know what I mean. Now call Voight and tell 'im you had a flash of sanity and changed your mind."

"It's too late." he said, resigned to what he had to do. "He's already setting' it up."

They were at a stalemate.

Erin had a gnawing feeling deep in her gut telling her that this was gonna turn out to be a recipe for disaster.

The plan was not really a plan, just some harebrained scheme thrown together out of pure desperation. Voight was risking an innocent man's life for a bust...and that was just not right.

"Erin." Kelly said softly as he tried again to lead her over to the couch. "I've been in tough scrapes before...an I've always come outta 'em. I just gotta keep tellin' myself this one's not gonna be any different."

Erin stared into those blue eyes that wouldn't back down.

She couldn't help but remember the last time they were this close. He had needed her. Katie missing...and he needed hope.

Well now, she needed something...she needed for him to be safe. And for that to happen he couldn't go through with this suicide mission Voight was passing off as a viable operation.

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They walked down to the Starbucks over on the net block, neither of them saying a word. They sat across from one another sipping their coffee...and as they walked back to her car Kelly was convinced of only one thing...he wanted to see this woman again, on a real date or several real dates.

But as far as Voight's plan...it was still a go.

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It had been a helluva shift...with nonstop calls, every damn one of them needing a squad.

The first call had set the tone for what next twenty four hours were gonna be like...two girls, about the same age as Katie had managed to slam into the back of a dump truck. So violently it took the roof of the Prius clean off. The driver didn't have a chance. As Kelly wedged under the truck and snaked his way half up the little silver car, he could see the carnage. That grotesque image wasn't one he'd be forgetting any time soon.

By some miracle the passenger slipped under the truck in the nick of time. She was sandwiched between the two vehicles and very much alive... in full blown panic mode.

If she wasn't claustrophobic before, she sure as hell would be after this.

"Help me! Oh, God, get me out of here!"

"Don't worry, we'll get you out. Try not to move. Just a few more minutes."

Kelly tried to calm her asking her name, telling her his...all the while using the jaws to try and free up a little space. The good and bad news was she didn't seem severely injured...her lungs were working just fine. Sometimes it was easier when they were unconscious, he thought.

It felt like it was taking forever to get to her...but they finally were able to extract the nearly hysterical young girl from the crumpled mess that had once been a nice little car.

"My friend, Kate? Is she still in there?" asked the girl frantically as Shay and Dawson wheeled her to the ambo.

"We're gettin her out now." Kelly assured her as he started for the car again. "You just hang in there, okay?" The girls almost the same age as his sister. Now one dead. Almost the same damn name. He took in a deep breath.

"Hey, Lieutenant..." Clarke said, already making his way to the bloody scene. "We'll handle the recovery."

Kelly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, man."

The whole shift was one run after another. But the last call was a tough one...elderly man trying to stay warm with a space heater. One that was probably older than him. Caught fire while he was sleeping taking the entire house in minutes threatening the homes on both sides. Squad found his body quickly, then scoured every room to make sure he was alone.

"Fire Department, call out!" Over and over. No response...all the rooms empty. The old man all alone.

"Chief, all clear."

"Get your guys out. This things going down. Two minutes, tops," said Boden anxious for his men to exit the home, watching Truck work their asses off to save the adjacent houses.

As Kelly came through the front door, a large piece of the door frame came with him, landing squarely on his shoulder.

"Ahhhh," he cried out going to one knee... Mills on him instantly.

"C'mon, I got you," said Pete helping his lieutenant up and over to the waiting Shay.

"I'm good. I'm good," insisted Kelly rotating his sore shoulder around and around.

"You sure?" Shay asked taking off his turnout coat, not waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," he insisted grabbing the bottled water Boden offered.

Shay and Dawson checked it out, pulling and pushing from all degrees, satisfied nothing was broken.

"You're gonna have a nasty bruise. It'll prob'ly be sore for a while." said Dawson.

"You think?" Kelly said sucking down the last of the water.

Shay handed him an ice pack.

"You have ibuprophen in your locker, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes, mother..." he replied.

As Kelly jumped in the Squad, he felt the vibration of his phone.

What now...he wondered. Who'd be calling him at this hour?

Voight.

Jeez...didn't the guy ever sleep?

"Yeah."

"It's a go..." Voight rasped. "Tonight...ten o'clock. Be here seven thirty."

Kelly'd almost forgotten all about his new part time job.


	9. Chapter 9

Voight had even found a loose connection between Katie and Joe Pierson...talk about two hundred degrees of separation. Turned out she knew a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend had been at that house party that had spelled doom for Bernie. She was pre-med and desperate to have herself expunged from ever having been in there. So she called a friend of a friend who was happy to set up the buy.

The connection couldn't get any looser. But apparently an upstanding fireman in pain trying to self medicate did not read "set up" and Pierson was more than happy to oblige. Other than college kids, these were his best customers...older, good jobs, and they kept comin' back. They also never brought the heat. They were soccer moms no one would suspect, lawyers with back pain, and now...firemen with nagging injuries.

Halstead felt like a traitor to Erin when he backed up his boss' scheme to use Severide.

"I thought you were on _my_ side! We're _partners_, remember? Wasn't that what you said?" Erin was making one last ditch effort to call off the buy, and it was landing on deaf ears. "You _have _to see this is crazy. You _have_ to."

"I _am_ your partner! I _always_ have your back, but at this point we've got no other options!" Jay argued.

"Fine." Erin said, backing away. "If anything goes wrong, it's on you two. You hear me? You good with that?"

Ruzek and Olinsky had wisely chosen to keep their heads down and their mouths shut. They didn't want any part of this fight.

Voight, looked bored with the whole thing.

"Nothin' bad's gonna happen. It'll be over before you know it." Jay tried to pacify her. But the words he was saying sounded like crap even to his own ears.

"So that's it?" Erin asked incredulously.

Was she the only one who cared that Severide was going into this virtually blind? At least they were all trained detectives...with hundreds...hell, _thousands_ of combined hours in undercover work.

"That's it." Jay said. "It's all we got."

Erin shoved past Voight giving him a look that if looks could kill would've rendered him dead in a heartbeat.

"Well, I'm not okay with this," she said, spitting the words out like poison as she left the room.

"Yeah, tell me again." Voight hollered after her . "'Cause I don't think I heard you the first hundred times."

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The buy was goin' down in some half-star motel parking lot. Kelly was supposed to park on the east side, covered by darkness, nearest the burned out street light. Pierson would pull up in front of the fireman and wait in his car. Kelly was supposed to go to the passenger side window, and that's where the exchange would take place.

Erin went over the simple instructions for the hundredth time.

"I got it. I got it. Don't engage...no conversation." Kelly said. He was getting frustrated with her. She was a bigger worry-wart than Shay, and it was makin' him nervous as hell. "Just get the pills...in and out."

"If he wants you to get in the car, don't do it. If he wants you to do anything other than what we just talked about, get your ass back in the car. If it just doesn't feel right, turn around."

The worry in the detective's voice was not lost on Voight... or on Halstead who were waiting in a black SUV across the street and down the block...with a clear line of sight to the sedan Kelly and Erin were in.

And the mics were hot.

The buy went down as planned. No hitches, over in less than five minutes. Only words exchanged were two "heys" and one "thanks."

Kelly was back in Erin's cruiser in fifteen handing over the little white tablets. He'd asked for Oxycodone and Pierson had delivered.

Back at District 21 everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. The deal was done. They had pulled it off.

"So are you gonna arrest him now? Get some names from him or somethin'?" Kelly asked wondering why they were all sitting on their hands while the guy who just gave him drugs had just driven off untouched.

"Guys like Pierson aren't worth it." Olinsky answered simply. "He's just a little piss-ant. He doesn't know anything about anything."

"So why in the hell did we bother with all this?" Severide wanted to know.

He'd been sweatin' a pound of flesh over a little piss-ant so low on the food chain he didn't know his own mother's name?

"You're gonna get the names." Antonio Dawson told him "Not tonight, not next time...but eventually you're gonna get names."

Kelly realized this part time job was gonna be a long term commitment.

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

So Voight unfolded the details of his plan...the ones he left out when he sealed the deal with a handshake.

Now Kelly was beginning to feel a little of Erin's apprehension.

More time...more buys...getting pissed. Demanding to meet with the higher ups...

More chances to fuck up.

But what could he do? It was too late to back out now.


	10. Chapter 10

"Kelly, you up? Kelly?" Shay's voice came into his room like an unwelcome house guest.

She kept alternating between calling his name and pounding on the door until he eventually dragged his ass out of bed and yanked it open.

"I'm up now," he answered, swearing that he just hit the sheets about an hour ago.

"It's after noon." Leslie informed him. "Were you plannin' to sleep the whole day away?"

"I was hopin' to." he answered.

Shay gave him a funny look. He never slept this late...even on his days off. He got up...went for a run or hit the gym...got coffee...

Something wasn't right.

Kelly turned around and went back to his bed where he flopped back down.

Leslie came into the room and sat down beside him.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked.

He rotated it shoulder a few times trying to work the kinks out, but the pain shot through his arm all the way down to the elbow.

"Did you ice it?" she asked. "When you got home from wherever you were?"

No, I was too busy buying drugs, he thought.

But instead he said,

"Let me jump in the shower."

By the time he stepped out, he saw that Voight had called twice.

You've gotta be kidding me...he said to himself as he pressed 'call'. What the hell did he want now?

"Yeah?" he said when the call went through.

"We're gonna set somethin' else up. Same place. Midnight, Friday." The gravel voice sergeant instructed.

Four days...

"That's pretty quick...they won't suspect somethin?" Kelly asked.

"You're an addict, remember? You're eatin' those things like candy." Voight reminded him.

Three more buys over the next ten days went down just like the first.. Each time a few more words were exchanged. But Pierson didn't try to make small talk. Get the pills and get out.

"You can call me directly," he told Kelly on the last deal handing him a card. No more middle man, or, more accurately, no more anxious twenty-something year-old pre-med student.

Voight was ecstatic...or whatever passed for ecstasy with Voight. Who could tell?

"This is good." he said. "Now we'll make the jump up the food chain."

Voight liked seeing each little piece fall into place, keeping to his timetable.

It was all coming together better than expected. Severide was playing his role perfectly.

Erin was still pissed, but she'd taken a vow of silence toward Hank. An added bonus, as far as he could see.

That jump up the food chain sounded more like a leap off a cliff to Kelly. This was the part where he was supposed to complain about the quality of the product goin' downhill. Voight wanted him to demand to meet with Pierson's boss.

Not wanting to lose a good paying customer, Pierson agreed right away.

Now the fight was over wire or no wire. Erin and Voight adamant in their opinions...very different opinions.

'He is not going in without us hearing every word. Period." Erin had already gotten the listening device from Jin and was checking it out.

"Take off your shirt," she told Kelly.

"I say no wire yet." Voight was just as adamant. "Pierson's guys, they're gonna test him. No wire."

"And I say they're not gonna..." Erin began.

"I don't wanna wear a wire." Kelly interrupted.

He figured he should have some say. Hell, he was the one goin' in, and he was sweatin' enough as it was. For once he was on Voight's side.

Erin dropped the wire on the desk in front of her loudly and turned around. She gave him a parting look that felt like winter was back.

She must've gone to splash cold water on her face or somethin' cause she came back a couple minutes later. She listened to Voight's instructions, and she had to admit...Hank was one of the best cops out there.

Now, time to get the fireman ready.

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Kelly walked into the seedy motel room not knowing what to expect. He knew what Voight expected, but experience taught him that scenes had a way of heading in new directions in a split second. Same old motel, they just moved it out of the parking lot and into a room this time. Creativity apparently was not a strong suit.

Joe Pierson sat at rickety table, flipping through blister packs of prescription painkillers...it was a veritable addict's candy store. All the usual suspects...Percocet, Vicodin, Dilaudid, Oxy, morphine.

Another man dressed in jeans and a dark blue button down lay across the bed.

Clean cut looking kid...Kelly thought. Barely a man really...no more than twenty two, twenty three.

Was this the 'higher-up' supplying to Pierson?

"Take off your shirt," Junior ordered, mouth set in a grim line, eyes saying he'd lost any childhood innocence years ago.

There was something cold about those ice blue eyes looking Kelly up and down.

"I said take off your fucking shirt." he repeated.

"Sorry...you're not my type." Kelly said. "I'm outta here.

He turned to the door, but Pierson was already in front of it.

"Move...or I'll go through you." Severide told him with more bravado than he really felt.

"You wanted to meet me." Junior said. "Somethin' about the quality of my product?"

Kelly turned back around, keeping Pierson in his peripheral vision.

"Yeah...it's shit." he told Junior. "That last batch was nothin' but sugar pills. Didn't do shit."

"I stand behind the quality of my product." Junior said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then you got scammed." Kelly said. "I'm not the only one who said the pills were crap. You can ask my buddies down at the firehouse. They're not happy either."

"You're givin' the pills to your buddies?" Junior asked.

"Not giving..." Kelly said cryptically. "Maybe there's a little somethin' in it for me."

Oh shit...he thought. What'd I just get myself into?

He had the same thought again a second later when two guys stepped out of the bathroom and the closet respectively. Two big guys...and one had a scar the ran from his right temple all the way down his face, across his cheek, to the corner of his mouth.

"How many "friends" are we talking about here?" Junior asked.

Kelly shrugged.

"Half a dozen...give or take." he said. "Firefighters get hurt all the time. It's a dangerous job, in case you hadn't heard."

Junior studied Severide...the way he was standing...holding his right arm close to his side. Definitely hurting. And there must be a hundred more out there like him.

Maybe there was an untapped market there...

"Well..." Junior said slowly. "I have nothing but respect for firefighters..."

Kelly recognized a snow job when he saw one.

Where was this guy going?

"Thanks..." he said warily.

"And I wouldn't want these men to be in pain unnecessarily." Junior went on. "Not when I could do something to help."

"A real humanitarian..." Severide scoffed.

"No...a businessman." Junior told him. "And I'm offering you an opportunity to go into business with me."

"You want me to sell your shit?"

"You're already selling it. You just admitted it. I can set you up with an 'inventory'...we split it eighty/twenty."

"You think I'm some kinda idiot?" Severide asked incredulously.

"Of course, you'd get a discount on your own "prescriptions"."

"Still not enough." Kelly said. "Sixty/forty...or I walk."

Kelly's heart was pounding in his chest, and he was surprised no one else could hear it.

What the hell are you doing? his mind screamed at him. This wasn't something he had talked about with Voight...or Erin. He was flying blind.

But just when he was sure his big mouth had gotten him into a whole shitload of trouble...he saw Junior nod his head.

"I think we can work with that. You drive a hard bargain, Lieutenant Severide."


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry we haven't updated in a while. We've been busy with our own fics (Demons Within and Still What I Need). :) For those enjoying this one, apologies! Hope this satisfies! Enjoy.**

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"What in the hell were you thinking? Or not thinking!" Erin was livid. She knew this was spiraling out of control into areas she had no intention of having Severide venture into.

"You definitely went off the reservation on this one," said Voight having a hard time holding back the small smile forming on his face. He had no desire to see Erin's service weapon up close and personal.

"But we can work with this. Yeah, we can work with this." Voight gave Kelly a "good boy" pat on the back and started writing in his notepad as he meandered his way back to his desk.

Erin didn't even look at the lieutenant as she headed off, apparently her vow of silence now including him.

"Do you need anything else tonight or am I good to go?" Kelly asked Halstead who'd been quiet since his return.

"Nah, you can head home." Jay gave him another wayward pat and took off in Detective Lindsay's direction. This was not on the playlist, sending in a civilian. Hell, the guy wasn't even a CI and we've got him _dealing_ now? A buy here or there, gettin' some intel, but this?

"Great," said Kelly feeling like someone's damn lapdog. He had one thought. Hit those sheets for the few hours separating right now with his next shift.

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"Kelly, Kelly," Shay was shaking her roommate who wouldn't wake up.

"Mmm, wha...what?" he snapped cracking his eyes slightly. What'd it been? Thirty minutes an hour?

He peered at his phone, dropping it on his nightstand, arm throbbing with the stretch.

"Shit!" He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline kicking in. "Shit! I'm gonna be late! Why the hell didn't you wake me?"

"I didn't know I was in charge of gettin' you up. You came in so late last night, I figured you could use a little extra sleep."

"Tell Boden I'm on my way," Kelly called heading to the bathroom to run some water on his face and brush his teeth.

"And I did wake you up," said Shay to the closing door. "Good talk," she added exasperated with her best friend. And worried.

Hot shower tempting as hell. It was the only thing helping his shoulder, the pain stretching out to his fingertips. No time...gotta wait till I'm at the house, in between runs.

He'd canceled two appointments at Occupational Health, his new job leaving no time for anything but sleeping and eating. Shay was on his ass to get everything checked out. He could feel her eyes on him every second at 51. He'd also felt Boden eyeballing him when he winced in the slightest, every time he drew his arm close to his body. He needed to buy some time before chief called him on it.

A little while longer...just a little while longer.

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The next week and a half moved so quickly, Kelly didn't know if he was comin' or goin'.

Shift, drugs, shift, drugs. Repeat. He couldn't say when he'd last had a day off... a month ago? More?

Erin barely said two words to him other than give instructions on what to say, how to act, what to do in every possible scenario. Halstead was pretty frosty too, no small talk.

His new boss, Junior, didn't have a problem with talkin'. He had what you'd call the gift of gab. He was intrigued by this tough fireman entering his seedy world of drugs, quick money, addiction.

Kelly had another buy scheduled and this time the tables would turn.

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Voight instructed that he keep to the truth as much as possible...less of a chance of slipping up. He also insisted Kelly wear a wire now. At all times.

"Our little punk trusts you. He won't test you. One more jump up the line of command, and you'll be done," said Voight attaching the listening device to Kelly's chest, making sure the tape was flush with his skin, undetectable with his shirt on.

That's music to my ears," Kelly replied pushing down on the tape, not happy with the fact that he could probably do this with his eyes closed.

"Stick to the plan. Don't change it up, don't ad lib. Just say and do exactly what we rehearsed," instructed Erin, speaking directly to him for the first time that night.

"Yes, ma'am." he said slipping his T-shirt over his head.

"We all know how much you like to do your own thing," she added, a small smile on her face for the first time in days. She pulled on the back of his shirt that was caught on some wiring.

"You ready?" asked Voight stepping in between the two.

"Let's do it."

Kelly entered the same old room, but with a new mission...he was the one askin' the questions this time.

And Junior was answering.

"No shit! You had a broken fucking neck a year ago?" said Junior incredulously.

"Yeah, ended up stealin' drugs from my best friend's ambo. Decided I needed a better way to get 'em."

"What about you? Clean cut kid, you don't look like a drug dealer." Kelly commented casually shuffling through the box of "goodies" Junior deposited in front of the fireman.

"What does a drug dealer look like?" laughed the younger man.

He told Kelly about being in school, studying business, trying to get into commercial real estate development. This guy was a regular Donald Trump.

He said this was all a "temporary thing" just a way to bank roll his investments.

"If you think I don't look like a drug dealer, you should see the guy who supplies me. You'd never in a million years..." he broke off lost in thought, then continued.

"Yeah, this whole thing was dumb luck. Couple of years ago, I hurt my knee in a pick up game. I go to see this orthopedic and the dude hits me up to sell his stuff at school. It's been what you'd call mutually beneficial for both of us."

Pay dirt, thought Voight listening in.

"This doctor got a name?" asked Kelly.

"Why you so interested in his name?" asked Junior suspiciously, icy stare back.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I got a little problem with my shoulder, my arm."

"This guy's a fuckin' natural," said Voight from the van.

"Nah, better to keep it separate." Junior knew he'd been blabbing too long, said a little too much. No big deal he thought...I got plenty on the fireman to ruin his career, his life. "You got enough there?" he asked as Kelly continued flipping through the packs of pills.

"This'll do," said Severide smiling.

Junior made his exit, but Kelly continued to shuffle through the box holding enough pills to medicate a football team, make that two. He stopped at the familiar blister packs he knew so well. Those old friends that would bring relief...instant relief a year ago. Would bring relief now. Kelly pulled out the pack and flipped it through his fingers...how easy to slip them in his pocket. Voight would never know, none of 'em would.

He took a deep breath and pushed them back in the box, slamming the lid on top. He tucked it under his arm and headed out.

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"Sorry, couldn't get him to spill the name," said Kelly.

"You did good. If this fireman thing doesn't work out..." Voight laughed, or as much of a laugh as the gravelly voice would allow. "Jin's workin' on a name."

"You did good," confirmed Erin squeezing in by Kelly, the crowded van taking off back toward headquarters. "This should be it. Jin'll get the doc's name and we'll make our move."

"Music to my ears," said Kelly as he untaped all the shit on him, Erin starting to help.

"You do need to get that checked out," added Erin running her hand down his shoulder lightly.

"Yes, ma'am," his usual answer repeated.

Erin's hand traveled down the length of his arm, resting in his hand.

"Jin got it." Voight's words caused Erin to pull back. "Severide, you've got an appointment next week with our drug dealin' doc."

Erin's mouth dropped to the floor and Jay flinched knowing another screaming match was on its way. Voight always kept things interesting, he had to give him that.

"What the hell?" started Erin.

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"Severide. In my office."

Kelly closed the door to Chief's office knowing he was about to get ripped a new one. Deservedly so. He'd been dragging ass, showin' up late...his head not where it should be. He knew it, the guys knew it, and Boden sure as hell knew it.

"What's going on?" Chief asked not beating around the bush.

"I don't know what you mean," tried Kelly looking down.

"Cut the bull and talk to me."

"Been feelin' under the weather. I'll get it together."

"That's all you got to say?"

"Yep."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Then get the hell out of here."

Kelly stormed off to his quarters feeling like he got off pretty easy...until he saw Shay sitting at his desk.

"Not now, Shay, not now."

"Kelly, we're all worried about you. Talk to me."

"Later, okay. I promise, we'll talk later. I just can't right now." Kelly's pleading look was not lost on his roommate.

"There is no later with you! You're never home, Kelly. Never! Where do you go? What's going on? Talk to me!" Shay's eyes were full and tearing at Severide's heart. Jesus, the lies, the half truths.

"Shay, please. I can't..." he tried again having nothing else to give.

"Well I can't either, Kelly. I can't watch you do this to yourself."

He could only sit motionless as Shay walked out. That damn appointment he'd been dreading couldn't get here soon enough.

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Waiting in the examining room, Kelly took a couple of deep breaths trying to calm his nerves. He focused on Erin's words...just go in like it's a normal appointment and feel out drug doc. If there's an opening, go for it. If not, get out. She'd given him a little squeeze before he went up...kinda passed as a hug if you used your imagination.

Dr. Gerald Fleming walked in, warm smile spreading all the way to his eyes, and Kelly wondered if it was a different doctor from the practice. There's no way in hell this guy was a drug dealer.

"Hello Lieutenant Severide. I'm Doctor Fleming, but you can call me Dr. Gerry." He extended his arm for a handshake and Kelly wondered if there'd be a treasure chest to choose a prize from when he left.

Saying the guy was easy to talk to was an understatement. Kelly told the doc about the shoulder pain extending down to his arm, getting worse not better.

"I'll order an MRI and that should tell us what we need to know. I wouldn't panic. Looking at your range of motion I'd say some rest and PT will fix you right up. But let's get the scan as a precaution, okay?"

Kelly nodded his head feeling better about his shoulder even if the whole sting had been a dead end. Maybe this would be it. The end of his role with the CPD. God willing.

"Anything else I can do you for?" asked the doctor as he filled out a prescription.

What the hell, thought Kelly. Voight will be glad I got confirmation that this wasn't our guy.

"Doug's the one who told me to see you."

The Mr. Friendly mask that Dr. Gerry was wearing slowly stripped away. Junior's real name was Douglas Sanders, Dougie to his friends, but just Junior to the CPD.

"Let me check one more thing," said the doc motioning for Kelly to stay in the examining table and clearly ignoring the Doug comment. The smile was gone, and it was like some other guy just walked in.

He came over to Kelly and placed one cold hand on his shoulder while grabbing the hurt arm and extending it slightly back.

"Any pain?" he asked coldly.

"Just a little."

"Doug sent you?" he asked extending the arm back a little.

"If we're tellin' the truth, not really. I just figured I'd cut out the middle man, or boy, and get a bigger piece 'o the pie." Kelly was flying blind, not sure what to say, still shocked this was drug doc.

"I'm happy with Doug. He's done a pretty good job."

"Pretty good sounds like there's room for improvement."

"There's always room for improvement." Dr. Gerry smiled again but this time the smile held so much more. He moved Kelly's arm back further while pressing on the shoulder harder. "Tell me when it hurts."

"Okay, right there," said Kelly closing his eyes a little.

Dr. Gerry yanked back harder, gripping the arm tighter and pushing down hard on the shoulder.

"Aaahhh!" yelled Kelly trying to wrench free, doubling over.

"I tell you what," said the doc, his face right up to Kelly's. "You want Doug's job, you take it."

He released the arm and Kelly brought it to his body, the breath sucked out of him.

"Whaddya mean take it?" he asked.

"You figure it out."

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Oh what a tangled web... haha! Kelly just isn't getting out of this one. We've got some Linseride love coming up soon. They've been flirting, but that's it. Not for long. :)


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